


A Mother's Worries

by temporarily_lost_at_sea



Category: Temeraire - Naomi Novik
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-23
Updated: 2012-04-23
Packaged: 2017-11-04 04:55:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/389966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/temporarily_lost_at_sea/pseuds/temporarily_lost_at_sea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mrs. Granby hesitated for a long time before she agreed to send her youngest son to the Aerial Corps. Contains spoilers for Crucible of Gold!</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Mother's Worries

Mrs. Granby had not been all that surprised when she received a letter from her youngest son telling her that he, after a series of dramatic events starting with a five-day-gale in the middle of the Atlantic and ending with a desperate escape after a disastrous mission at the Incan court, had been forced to have his left hand amputated. She grieved a little for her son, of course, but mostly she was grateful it was only the hand. She had learned long ago to expect news of fresh injuries for each new letter her son sent her. Not that he actually told her about the injuries, most of the times, but a mother can always tell. He would make comments along the lines of “and I wasn’t of much use for the rest of the battle” or simply leave long gaps in his descriptions, during which she usually assumed he had been unconscious. It was not that she doubted her son’s abilities; he was a hard worker and would always do the best he could with an unrelenting stubbornness, but even as a child he had been unusually prone to accidents. It was not any fault of his, not like his oldest brother who would get hurt while performing some foolhardy trick to impress his friends; John just always seemed to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. If a ball went astray while the children were playing, it would hit his head; if there was a flu going around, he would catch it. 

Mrs. Granby had learned early on to keep an extra eye on her youngest son and try her best to avert the worst accidents. That was why she had hesitated for a long time before she agreed to send him to the Aerial Corps. Every night for months she had lain awake imagining the many horrible things that could happen to her son in such surroundings. Night after night she had seen him falling off a dragon in mid-air, being shot, maimed, captured by enemies and savaged by ferocious-looking dragons. But she had no choice, in the end; his brothers were too old to join the Corps and there was no other way to keep them all fed and clothed. So she had let him go and he had very bravely held back his tears as they said farewell. 

He had been home to visit again some years later, looking almost twice as tall as when he left (hitting his head on the low door frame as he entered the house) and full of enthusiasm for the Corps and his future there. Seeing him so pleased with his lot had erased much of the guilt she had felt at sending him away at such a young age and despite the dangers she knew that she at least did not have to worry about his happiness.

His visits continued to be scarce, but he wrote home regularly, telling her of everyday life in the Corps. When he had been made First Lieutenant on what Mrs. Granby understood to be a rare heavy-weight, however, his accounts had taken a turn to the bizarre. Suddenly he seemed to be travelling all over the world and having all sorts of wondrous adventures. She was happy for him, of course, but when he had written to tell her that he had been made captain of his very own dragon she could not help but wondering how anyone would think it a good idea to let her John manage a fire breather. Then she felt quite ashamed of herself for thinking so lowly of him and she had put her doubts aside and decided instead to be proud that one of her sons was a captain in His Majesty’s Army. His new responsibilities and the escalation of the war had kept him from writing so often after that and last she heard from him he was, for no apparent reason, on his way to Australia. And now he was in Brazil, a hand short and unsure of where he was going next. He wrote that it would probably be back to England or China, but by now she would not be surprised if his next letter was sent from the depths of Russia instead. But there was no use in worrying about that, Mrs. Granby decided. She would be satisfied as long as he had one hand left with which to write her a letter from time to time.


End file.
